Psychological Games
by toxicgurl169
Summary: Peter Hayes is ruthless, conniving, manipulative and calculating. He will do anything and everything to get ahead and to make sure he is always on the winning side of the line. So then why is Peter all of the sudden showing any mercy towards Tris Prior?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Psychological Games

 **Author:** Ashley

 **Disclaimer:** Belongs to Veronica Roth. Oh, how I wish Peter belonged to me.

 **Summary:** Peter Hayes is ruthless, conniving, manipulative and calculating. He will do anything and everything to get ahead and to make sure he is always on the winning side of the line. So then why is Peter all of the sudden showing any mercy towards Tris Prior?

 **Timeline:** Starting from Divergent where Peter/Tris were paired up to fight against one another.

 **Note:** This is going to be a little different in the chapter sense. I'm going to post-quick chapters. They are going to be a little shorter in length, but hopefully post them quick enough where it all still flows. It just helps me get a longer story out if I'm not writing very long chapters each time, but more like breaking them up. I'm not sure if this is even going to work, but I'm going to try it!

Let me know what you think!

* * *

The first time Peter Hayes played a psychological game on me, was when we were paired up to fight against each other in another round of battle.

My heart flew to my stomach when I heard Eric's words echo throughout the compound.

"First fight. Peter verses Tris."

I had hoped that I heard him wrong, but as I turned my body away from the scoreboard, my hands firmly planted on my hips, I watched as Peter patted the edge of the mat, his body tall and firmly present, shaking his long limbs as he geared up to fight.

The rules were simple. Four words. Fifteen letters.

 _Fight to the death._

With a shake of my head and Christina and Will on either side of me, I made my way onto the mat.

Four grabs ahold of my wrist letting me know that Peter steps before he punches. I try to lock that information away in my head as I make my way onto the mat.

I get into fighter position and hear Peter's words, "You alright there, stiff? You look like you are about to cry."

And so it began.

Kick. Jab. Punch.

My body ached from the countless merciless attacks that Peter charged. I felt him grab me around my middle and leg, gravitation working against my force as he lifted me up and threw me hard against the floor, a grunt leaving my lungs as I connected with a thud against the mat. I then felt Peter connect his foot with my stomach and I recoiled backwards.

"Come on, stop playing with each other." I hear Eric drawl from the corner of the mat. I scoff in my head at his choice of words, as if anything about this was a game.

I stand up slowly, my muscles and body raw with the strength of Peter's fighting skills. It wasn't by chance that he was currently ranked at number one.

I look Peter in the eye, not willing to back down from the fight. I involuntary noted that his eyes were darker, a darker shade no doubt because of the intensity that he currently had in my direction, but I noted that there were hints of green with golden flecks reflecting back at me. I would usually find that beautiful, but a shiver flew down my spine with the expression on his face.

Focused.

Determined.

And a look that many of us have had because we all knew that it was either you or your opponent.

 _Lethal._

Before I could blink, Peter took a step and suddenly I was on the ground again.

I heard Four's words in my head again. _He steps before he punches_.

But that didn't stop me from falling hard, yet again.

That punch hurt.

I coughed, a sticky substance on my upper lip that I have come to know as blood. It took me a second to shake my head, but I looked up from the furrow of my brow and watched as a blurry form walked away.

 _Four._

I didn't have time to process the meaning behind him leaving before I felt a shadow fall over my face, my body and mind registering what was about to happen.

Time seemed to slow down in that moment. I knew this was the end for me. My shaking body couldn't take anymore. I had no more energy left in me and I knew this was the moment the fight was going to end. I was going to lose.

I took a moment to brace myself. For the inevitable. But then…

 _Nothing._

There was a pause. A stillness in the air that could not be explained.

One second.

Two.

Three.

I took a moment and furrowed my eyebrows, a crinkle forming in between my eyes when it felt like minutes, only for nothing to have happened.

I close my eyes and swallow hard as I gathered my courage and took a chance to look up.

Peter's left foot hovered above me, his body shaking, beads of sweat dripping down his neck from the not only physical, but mental excursion fighting has caused on his body, his breathing fast, and yet controlled, at the same time.

Why wasn't he finishing me off?

My body and mind didn't seem to connect. Didn't process what possible reason why I wasn't knocked out the way I should have been. Time seemed to stand still and everyone else faded away. Our eyes connected for a brief moment, and it wasn't until I heard Christina yell out to me, that I was swept back to the present situation and with every last bit of force that I had left in my body, did I grab ahold of his right ankle and pulled with the last bit of strength that I left, a thud echoing throughout the room.

I heard Peter grunt as he lay next to me, our bodies in sync with one another as we tried bringing air back into our starved lungs. I chanced a look at his face and I swallowed hard.

His face had a look to kill.

"Alright, that's enough." Eric's voice boomed, startling me a little. "Everyone get out. The fight is over."

I heard Peter punch the mat with his fist, an animal growl leaving his throat as he stood up fast and stormed off, pushing past Christina as he left.

From the corner of my eye I saw Eric sneer as he turned his back and left as well. I closed my eyes, a small smile appearing on my lips, trying to take in the realization that I didn't lose.

At an instant, Christina and Will stormed over, extending their arms as they helped me up.

"What in the heck was that?" Christina asked, a look of confusion on her face.

"Yeah, what in the hell just happened? Peter had you." Will interjected.

I didn't know what to say. What was there to say? "I don't know." I breathed out.

I turned my head and saw the last of Peter's shadow as he turned the corner and disappeared completely out of sight.

Will was right. Peter had me. He could have ended it, but he didn't. At this moment, I didn't know if I was grateful, or even more afraid of what was to come.

* * *

And there you have it. I have the next 2 chapters mostly written out. So the next chapter should be out soon!

As you can see, I took a scene from the movie, but I'm twisting it to my will!

Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Psychological Games

 **Author:** Ashley

 **Disclaimer:** Belongs to Veronica Roth. Oh, how I wish Peter belonged to me.

 **Summary:** Peter Hayes is ruthless, conniving, manipulative and calculating. He will do anything and everything to get ahead and to make sure he is always on the winning side of the line. So then why is Peter all of the sudden showing any mercy towards Tris Prior?

 **Timeline:** Starting from Divergent where Peter/Tris were paired up to fight against one another.

 **Note:** Whoo-hoo! 2 reviews and a few favorites and follows! I'm glad you guys are intrigued with this story! Makes me smile as wide as watching my dog Molly spin around in circles whenever she is excited about something! So thank you!

Onto the Chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter 2:**

The second time: It was midnight.

In Abnegation, we grow up being taught to be selfless. We help others and have no vanity of our own. Vanity takes away a part of your soul. It focuses the attention on yourself as opposed to harnessing that focus on someone else who may need help.

That is why we only get a brief time to look in the mirror. Too much time, and it would be considered selfish. The complete opposite of what Abnegation stood for.

As I found myself walking to the training room to practice on the punching bags to physically get myself stronger, after lying in bed, my brain not being able to shut off with thoughts of the previous events swimming through my head, my thoughts drifted to Peter.

 _Peter._

I can't help but wonder if I was still in Abnegation, if I would feel the need to help him. To look past his flaws and have the urge to lend a helping hand, rather then have the urge to crucify. My parents would. But then again, I have always felt that they were better people then me. They never hesitated to help someone in need to anyone who needed it and for some reason; I have always felt like I have never been able to live up those standards.

Or maybe Peter was simply an asshole with no redeemable qualities.

I shake my head, my thoughts muddled and unclear with what it all meant. But in the end, did I even care?

I exhaled.

Regardless of it all, even when I was in Abnegation, I never felt like I completely fit into the mold. My soul called out for not necessarily Dauntless, but the energy they brought and what they represented.

 _Freedom._

And it makes me think about the time when I was walking with Caleb, both of us still in our faction, not yet knowing where we were going to end up, and the woman dropped her bags on the ground. Caleb's first instinct was the help, my first instinct was simply to stop and stare.

What did that make me? I'm not sure. But now I am going to be Dauntless. I am Dauntless, and I was going to fight like hell to stay here. I am one spot away from being above the red line, so I have found that the punching bags have become my normal routine because I was one of the weakest ones here. It's true that I have moved up in the ranks a bit, but I was one spot away from being factionless.

After Peter and I fought today, neither of us lost or gained any points. The fight was considered a draw since there was no clear winner. Peter almost got the better of me though, something that I know Eric must of orchestrated.

I find that it is hard for me to stay quiet when I know something is wrong, when a situation is unfair, a trait in me that seems to constantly get me in trouble.

I still did not understand what had happened.

Peter had me.

He would have won the fight, only for him to pause, giving me the upper hand. I felt a shiver go down my spine as I thought about the brief eye contact that Peter and I shared when he was ready to kick me in the face. There was a flash. It was small and it only stayed for a moment. But Peter looked torn.

Tortured.

Almost apologetic.

I shook my head and forced myself to rid myself of these thoughts. I needed to stay focused.

As I drew nearer to the training room, I heard a noise, startling me into a gasp, my body faltering mid-step. I whipped to the side as I saw two shadows fall against the floor, coming in my direction. As discreetly as I could, I hid behind a corner wall and kept my breathing steady, my eyes closing in focus, not wanting to be discovered.

"I gave you an opening and you blew it. What in the hell is the matter with you?"

I sucked in a small breath.

Eric?

"Relax. I know what I'm doing."

I bit my lower lip realizing the second voice belonged to Peter. I felt my heart rate speed up in fear and anticipation.

With bated breath, I chanced a look around the corner and saw both Eric's and Peter's side profiles. Eric took a calculated step forward. He got into your space, his voice always low, and his eyes never leaving yours. It was a fear tactic. To make the person he is talking too as uncomfortable as possible, knowing who was in control of the conversation.

And it worked.

His strong demeanor forced Peter to take a discreet step back, it was small, something you would have missed if you weren't paying attention, although his face was impassive, and bored. "Are you going soft for the stiff? Is that what is happening here?"

There was no hesitation as Peter answered. "Look, all I am doing is leading her into a false sense of security. Then when she thinks she can beat me in a fight, I'll strike. Piece of cake."

"I gave you a chance to strike today, and you blew it." He tilted his head to his left side. "If I didn't know any better-" His voice lowered, " -I would think you were not appreciating my charity."

Peter shrugged as he placed his hands on his hips. Peter has grown in muscle since we first started here, an inevitable effect when joining a faction like Dauntless. They were building soldiers, it was simply a fact. "Think of it this way. Now she will owe me one. You never know when she can come in handy."

Eric looked Peter over. Almost as if he was studying him, trying to find a flaw in his answer. Peter used to be Candor and they were known to always tell the truth. There was a motto among all the faction.

 _Faction before blood._

The day we burned our old clothing, was the day we let go of our lives before Dauntless. But old parts of us still lingered. Our old factions are what we have grown up with and have known all our lives. A small part of that never leaves you.

So Eric stared him down as if knowing that was a small, but unspoken truth. If Peter was lying however, he didn't show it.

He waved a finger in Peter's face, getting into his personal space. "Listen Hayes, I am trusting you to get the job done. Now I don't mind you having a little fun, but finish the stiff off, or risk serious consequences coming your way."

I saw Peter nod. "I understand." He smirked. "Like I said, don't worry about it. She won't last much longer."

Before I knew it, Eric turned and left, Peter left standing behind.

I bit my lower lip and turned to leave, trying to process the information that I just heard, when I noticed it.

Peter's jaw locked, his upper cheek pulsing by the obvious gritting of his teeth. I furrowed my eyebrows biting my lowering lip again and slowly letting it go. Biting my lip has become a habit since I was a little girl. I always did so whenever I was unsure or nervous about something. It used to drive my parents crazy. They always said it would chap my lip enough for it to split open, but it became a habit nevertheless.

I looked down trying to process Peter's reaction and when I looked back up again, Peter was gone.

Christina was right. This was Eric's doing. He was trying to get rid of me and having Peter as his lackey to do his dirty work.

A wave of determination washed over my being, as I took a strong step forward to the punching bags.

I needed to keep focused and make sure I was always one step ahead. This was war. It was time to truly play the game.

* * *

There you have it!

Note: Again, it's going to be short chapters, but hopefully frequent updates. I have never done this format before, so I'm trying it out to see what happens!

Thanks everyone!


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